On a cold December day in St. Paul, Minnesota, Charlene Switch gave birth to a healthy 7.5 pound bundle of joy. They named him Hamilton Jack Switch. After he was born, his dad Lawrence Switch was sent over to Saudi Arabia for his job. Sadly this trip ended tragically for the Switch family. A group of Islamic Radicals bombed the compound he was working in. No one survived. Jack ended up being an only child raised by his mother. When Jack was old enough to understand what happened to his father he felt depressed. But instead of succumbing to that grief he sank himself into school work, starting in Middle School, where he surpassed every student in his classes. He then took High School by the horns by taking and acing every AP class in High School he could take. He graduated High School valedictorian and class president. When he graduated he had full ride offers from every Ivy League school and numerous others. He took three months to decide where he wanted to to go. He went against his mother's wishes, she wanted him to go to Harvard, but he really wanted to go far away from home. He decided on Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland, where he got a degree in Engineering. He worked all around the world doing different things. Teaching English in Thailand, surfing the waves in Hawaii, big game hunting in the African Plains, everything a man could want to do. Jack, however, was not satisfied. He always felt something lacking. What he really wanted was to live a simple life, in a classic American city, with a simple yet elegant woman at his side. He dreamed of love a lot as a child. His mother did not show him very much of it, she became emotionless after Lawrence's death. He was 24 when he ended up in Boston. Working as an grocery delivery man. He did that over any other job, and he could have had any job he wanted with his resumé. He really wanted a simpler life. He felt that job gave him the best shot at that. He had a lot of money saved up so he did not have to worry about not making ends meet. He really enjoyed his daily routine, he always tried to add in something spontaneous once in a while to spice things up a little, but not too much. He did that job for a year before moving on. Since he had some money to spare he decided to open up a pawn shop. He always loved objects that told a history. He preferred something with sentimental value, like a family heirloom that has many stories to tell, over some object that is just historic. That is why he always paid more for something if the seller could tell him the storied behind the object. He was not in this to make money, but to help people in a time of need and collect some cool things. His prized possession was a diary of a little girl, Anamarie Edlestein, who was at Auschwitz. He cried every time he read that diary. He felt bad for owning it but he wouldn't sell it for the world. On a mild August afternoon he had customer that was more beautiful than the sun. Her name was Clara.